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She was anxious, that was obvious. Ninorra thought on the boy with his red eye, his demeanor, his appearance. There was more to him then she was letting on, she could see that easily, and if he thought that he was fooling her, he was wrong.

"House Ymir.." She muttered to herself, sifting through her bag to retrieve the books she brought with her from Vicailde's library. "I'm not as stupid as he thinks."

They were old books, and gently used. The Bloodstone family had more than a few secrets hidden in their mansion, and the library was the most valuable. She'd been introduced to this haven by her husband, long ago, and often found spells inside that were worth more than the mansion itself. Most of them had been used for fun; strange perversions that the couple utilized when they were bored.

One of them in particular caught her eye; a duplication spell. She'd used it only once, while exceptionally lonely, to create a physical copy of her husband. Without him there to provide it with a heart, however, the copy was nothing more than a shell. A wordless slave, it did as Ninorra asked, but she found it's company too depressing and destroyed it the next day.

However, now she understood how to utilize the spell, and what to really do with it. Callus, clearly a relation of some sort, provided more than a few clues of where he was really from. This time-travel business was easier to spot the more portals they went through, and if her suspicions were correct, he was not of their time. Which meant that he had come for a purpose, and if that purpose involved her husband, she would soon find out.

"The copy spell," she said to herself, reading the words silently. It was easy enough to create a physical copy of oneself, but a complete duplicate required more; a piece of one's mind and soul. If she was going to leave this world for some unseen future, she must leave behind enough of herself to at least care for her son. Unfortunately, her soul was already spoken for, which meant that when the copy's life ended, it would leave no trace of it's existence. But her mind?

"Ab'ba, noral'arkhana," she muttered, drawing a circle into the wooden floor of her quarters with a piece of white chalk. She traced the circle several times and added more to it's edges, including runes specified in the book she kept in one hand. "Arkhana il fala, san'da arie'n..."

The circles glowed and shimmered until fire appeared at the center in the shape of an elf; Ninorra's copy of herself. Quietly, she continued to mutter the phrases, her eyes glowing deep red until the fire became flesh. Usually, spells like this would be utilized to create slaves or servants, and this was no different, but for one exception; she would have memories.

"Ama noral'arkhana..." the warlock whispered, walking toward the lifeless creature and sliding the gold ring from her left hand. It was a symbol, a conduit of the memories she would give to this copy, but enough to give her the life and love to care for "her" son. Ninorra slid the ring on to the copy's hand and examined her.

"Master?" Came a voice.

Ninorra startled, and glanced back toward the voice. "Helnia? What do you want?"

Her succubus grinned, shrugging. "I thought I'd see what you were up to."

"Well," the elf sighed. "You may as well help me. Here, put her into my bed."

Together, elf and succubus carried the copy to Ninorra's bed and tucked her in. With the gold ring on her finger, she would remember the life that came with it as if it were her own. It was enough safety to give the real Ninorra a sense of security should she find herself too far to care for him.

"Helnia," she said quietly, to keep from waking her creation. "I need you to listen very carefully. You are to obey this creation of mine, as if she were me. You are not to say a word of this to anyone. Do you understand? I may be going somewhere far far away, and I need her to continue my business here. Do you understand?"

The succubus nodded. Mischievous though she was, the demon was loyal. Besides, this might be fun! She thought to herself "Yes, master."

"Good. Stay here until she wakes. Make sure nothing is amiss. Am I clear?"

"Yes master," Helnia answered, gazing upon the copy of her mistress, sleeping soundly. Oh yes, we will have fun...

"Thank you, my friend," Ninorra said, genuine sadness in her voice. "I hope that I will see you again."

Before Helnia had a chance to respond, the warlock covered the circles on her floor with furs and left the room. The book, she placed in a satchel, amd slung it over one shoulder. Her hood went up as soon as she left, red eyes piercing through the darkness as she made her way toward Callus' quarters.

A single knock was her only announcement before unceremoniously opening the door. It was early yet, and the sun had not risen. The rest of the garrison was asleep, making this the perfect time to speak to him.

"Callus," she said quietly, in a gentle yet forceful tone. "I think that it's time you told me the truth."

The fire crackled quietly in the middle of the room. Callus sat with his feet up on a cleanly cut log, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in another. The front of the book was embroidered with an outlandishly fancy calligraphy that spelled "Northern Exposure." The young elf closed the book with one hand, placing it on the table.

"You are up early this morning, Lady Bloodstone." Callus took a small drink of his tea. "I assure you the workers have already been pulled from their furs and begun on patching the rather large hole in the roof of the barracks that... unfortunately, resulted in the death of five of the grunts. Stupid things were too lazy to wake up after being buried in a foot of snow."

He stood up placing his tea on the table. He moved to pull a chair out from the table and gestured towards it. A plate of fried meat and vegetable simmered as if he had expected her arrival or mere coincidence that he was about to eat.

"But not to worry, I have already put in a requisition for more workers. I had to bribe the officer to get him put up the energy to send a few eleven workers our way. Breakfast?"

The warlock took a deep breath, calming herself. She took a seat opposite of Callus and rest her hands on the table.

"I'm afraid that I have not come to share a meal with you," she said as calmly as she could bear. "I've come this early because I wanted to be able to speak candidly. I've been thinking about what you told me before, about your family, and I don't think that it rings quite true."

She leaned forward to look at him seriously.

"Do you really think I'd believe for a moment that Silvermoon would send me someone quite so capable as you? Even I know better then that. You've been far too good at your job, and I'm quite suspicious of people who are too conveniently good at what they do. So. I'm going to give you a chance."

Ninorra sat back in her chair, gently rolling one of the beads around her throat between two fingers.

"I want you to tell me who you really are, and why you're here. Or I will find a way to find out."

Callus rolled his tongue against cheek, looking a bit put off. He slipped into his chair grabbing a fork and began prodding at the steaming meal before him.

"Well if you're not hungry." He murmured before politely placing a bit of the food in his mouth and chewing for a moment. He swallowed before grabbing his tea and taking a small drink.

"I am who I claim to be. You are free to look into my personal life if you so wish but I assure you will find nothing of note." Cal placed the fork on the table by the plate. He watched her carefully placing his hands onto his lap. "While I may have tipped the balance in where I was placed slightly, working for you was considerably cheaper than most of the other elven officers. I also figured that you of all nobles would be the least resistant in having a commoner as a first in command."

His crimson eyes moved back to the plate and he stabbed at the food before placing into his mouth. He chewed twice before speaking out of the side of his mouth, his voice muffled slightly. "I assumed we could both benefit from my position here. Was I mistaken?"

"You know just to pull at my heartstrings, don't you? A 'commoner'.. of all things. As if I would have a problem with that? No, what I have a problem with is that I still don't believe what you're telling me. It's too damned simple, and besides that, the only person in the world I know with eyes like mine is my son. There are plenty of warlocks out there with red eyes from some curse or another, but like that? No, dear."

Cal crossed his arms leaning back into his chair. His gaze moved from her accusing finger to her eyes. He knew that look. He had seen it many times before. He knew all to well that nothing would change her mind once she was like this. Callus gave a long drawn out sigh.

"I will offer you this one chance." He began quietly, his solemn face appearing quite similar to Vicailde's usual grimace when faced with an uncomfortable situation. "Let this go. Allow me to do my job. This is a door that, once open, could pose consequences not only to yourself but to your family and everything you hold dear. This is not a threat but a warning."

Cal outstretched a hand to place it on Ninorra's. His face softened and for the first time since Ninorra had met him his crimson eyes seemed genuinely concerned and something about his face doubly familiar. "...please leave it be."

There was a pause as she reflected. There was genuine concern in his voice, and something about the way he looked at her was familiar. It pulled at her heartstrings, and for a moment she considered taking his advice.

Unfortunately, she was never one to take good advice.

"I appreciate your concern, I do. I can see that this is difficult for you, and whatever it is you're here to do must be important. Unfortunately," she stood up and brushed off her robes. "I've grown impatient. I want my husband back, and I really don't care what I have to do to get him. So if that means burning down all of creation, I'll do that."

Reaching down, she grabbed a knife and stabbed at a piece of charred meat on the table. Ninorra brought it to her mouth and chewed aggressively.

"Now," she said after swallowing. "Tell me the truth, and don't skimp on the details."

Callus closed his eyes and released a long irritated sigh. His face relaxed. He did not want it to come to this... but while inconvenient he had prepared for this. His eyes opened, expressionless. "Fine."

He stood up, one hand on the back of his chair. He lift a heavy fur cloak onto his shoulders and clasped it in one swift motion. "However, this is something I will have to show you." He offered a hand towards the large doors. "If that is okay with you, my lady."

Water dripped rhythmically. A distant wail of a harsh wind permeated through the pitch black of the cave. There came the sound of footsteps echoing through the catacombs leading to the dark chamber. A faint verdant glow slowly illuminated the massive room. Harsh shadows cast against the intricately carved rounded walls, every inch covered in stone forms frozen in endless time clawing their way from the walls. Human, orcs, demons, and creatures piled on top of one another covered in gruesome wounds. On the far wall a large crumbling arch sat half sunken into the wall, it’s entry a solid wall of stone.

A faint hum slowly filled the chamber and a cloaked figure entered. His heavy mantle covered in a thick layer of snow. The frost crumbling from his shoulders as he moved. He held an intricate torch, the base that of a sword hilt, alight with putrid viridescent felfire. Callus shook the hood of his cloak with a firm shake of his head and his lips parted in song.

As the heat is rising, out there in the pastFallen angels calling, they have come to lastThey are coming out of the dark

The quiet sound of stone grinding against stone echoed through the chamber, over powered by the young Sin’Dorei’s song. His eyes began to glow a vibrant crimson and the grotesque wall carves seemed to dance, dark shadows flickering about violently. Four stone figures were birthed from the walls, gruesome demonic figures, each holding a stone brazier in an offering motion towards the center of the room.

Then the horsemen ride out,everything grows coldNow their armies march in,out there from the underworld

Callus approached the first statue, flaming beacon in hand. The statue a frozen swarming mass of tentacles that spread and and entwined with the earthen figures behind it. A spiky carapace covered in hundred of frozen eyes lurked beneath the mass of arms. Callus lowered the torch to the brazier lighting it. The next figure, an enormous figure, even half hunched it’s back pressed to the ceiling. A split ran vertically up the full length of the creature opening to rows of sharp teeth a doll-like naked maiden slump back against the teeth with a cheshire smile and empty eyes. The brazier pulled closed to her bosoms. This too Callus lit. The third effigy a gaunt eight armed hooded woman. Each scarred hand held a different instrument of torture except her eight feminine hand, delicately grasping her small brazier. The elf ignited the cask and turned to the final form.

I do not want my eyes to see,I never wanted to believe

A beautiful, delicate succubus slumped against the wall. A stone carving of Helnia, head tilted in sadness carved tear dotted her cheeks, her small offering out stretched weakly.

Take me to the gardens of the sinner

Callus sang hushly as he lit her brazier. The sound of stone grinding emanated about the chamber as two interlocked statues rose from the center of the room, as if raising from water. A demoness, large curved horns raising from her forehead. The sides of her wide hips bursting two large spiked bones. She knelt on one knee, the other supporting the limp form of an elven male. His head fallen fully back, eyes closed. A large viciously torn hole carved from his chest where his heart should be.

Bury me and let me rest in peaceNow the time of truth has come for everyone

Callus circled the statues before raising his torch and plunging it into the savage wound of the male figure. Bright green sparks shot from the wound before quieting beneath the sword hilt.

The fallen angel stands in victoryThe final seal was broken

The demoness’s eyes began to glow a dull red and what looked like blood oozed from beneath her eyes down worn tracks down her cheeks. The liquid dripped onto the male figure and dripped off slowly filling the small crevice the figures knelt in.

it opened up the gatesFor the dark avengers,their anger kills the light and then...

Callus raised his head to the arch. The sound of air escaping shot suddenly through the chamber and it shook violently for a moment sending dust falling. An unbearable heat tore through the chamber swiftly carrying a putrid smell of carrion and sulfur. The stone inside the arch cracked violently ushering in a blinding light that filled the chamber.

I do not want my eyes to see,I never wanted to believeTake me to the gardens of the sinner